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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192502">We'll Be Present at the Birth (Of Old Faith Looking New)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913'>americanhoney913</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Julie and the Himbos [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Julie and The Phantoms (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Characters to be added, Additional Relationship Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Ancient Gods, F/M, Gen, M/M, Rose is dead but she isn't dead, Willie and Rose know each other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:48:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,272</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Morning glow by your light</i><br/><i>We can make the new day bright</i><br/><i>And the phantoms of the night</i><br/><i>Will fade into the past</i><br/><i>Morning glow is here</i><br/><i>At last</i><br/>--- Morning Glow, Pippin (1972)</p><p>***</p><p>“Hello,” Julie speaks for the first time since waking in the field. Her voice sounds hoarse and it feels like there’s sand grains lining her throat.</p><p>“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he says, voice smooth like water.</p><p>After a minute, she finally comprehends his words and pulls back. “You’ve… you’ve been waiting for me?”</p><p>He shrugs and makes a motion to shove his hand into his pocket before he chuckles and leaves them at his side. “It might not make much sense, but I hope it will soon. Do you know where you are? How you got here?”</p><p>She shakes her head. “I fell asleep in my bed and woke up in the middle of nowhere.”</p><p>OR</p><p>Rose passes on more than just her love for music to Julie. She passes on not only the ability to see ghosts and to interact with them, but a shadow that looms over everything. Caleb isn't the most dangerous thing out there anymore. Can Rose somehow help Julie and her friends defeat what's coming?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bobby | Trevor Wilson &amp; Alex Mercer &amp; Luke Patterson &amp; Reggie Peters, Bobby | Trevor Wilson &amp; Rose, Rose Molina &amp; Willie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Julie and the Himbos [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959466</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been kind of like a crazy dream that I actually got out of my head.</p><p>The question: What if Rose wasn't actually dead? Inspired by all of the signs Rose was leaving for Julie throughout the show.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The boys bow again and she claps enthusiastically, remembering herself. She has to blend in, be mortal for at least a few more hours before she can go home. The band members laugh and jump off the stage. The guitarist in the striped shirt heads her way and she smiles at him. She can’t see the future like the Fates can, but she can see his thread, silver and long, trailing behind him. The other boys follow, their strings golden and shorter, the ends letting off small golden bubbles.</p><p>Time, slipping away into nothing.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Meet Rose, who's not just a pretty face the boys flirting with one night in 1995.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rose watches the boys on the stage perform and their energy is contagious. The Orpheum smells like sweat and a faint trace of alcohol underneath. And the entire place hums with the electricity of thousands of performances before. This is just a soundcheck before the real thing later, but they give it the same level of enthusiasm they would later. Unfortunately, she’s here for a different reason.</p><p>She isn’t even supposed to be here, but she needed out. Her usual job was getting tedious— administration stuff to keep everything running— so being among these people feels nice. And she hasn’t heard music like this for years.</p><p>The boys bow and begin to jump around in excitement. Rose turns back to her cleaning. She extends her hearing and listens to them argue about taking compliments and being hungry and she winces. If only she’d been a Fate instead of the bearer of bad news. She doesn’t understand how her brother does this, for millennia, for every culture. Sure, he has his butterflies to help him because he can’t be everywhere at once, but it must be draining to deal with so much death. She just has to judge and decide the final resting place of those already in her realm.</p><p>They bow again and she claps enthusiastically, remembering herself. She has to blend in, be mortal for at least a few more hours before she can go home. The band members laugh and jump off the stage. The guitarist in the striped shirt heads her way and she smiles at him. She can’t see the future like the Fates can, but she can see his thread, silver and long, trailing behind him. The other boys follow, their strings golden and shorter, the ends letting off small golden bubbles.</p><p>Time, slipping away into nothing.</p><p>“Hey, Bobby, where are you going?” the lead guitarist calls out. Bobby, striped shirt guy, comes over to her and smiles, runs a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. “Street dogs?”</p><p>“I’m good,” he calls as he waves them over. The brunette in the <em> Rush </em>shirt leans against his shoulder. She pretends to go back to cleaning as he turns to her and smiles again. “Vegetarian. I could never hurt an animal.” Like that matters to someone who's had to deal with human and animal sacrifices for millennia.</p><p>If this is the last time she’s going to see the four of them together, alive, she’s going to make her words count. “You guys are really good.”</p><p>“Thank you,” <em> Rush </em>says again. She should know their names so she doesn’t take the wrong person, but she’d been a little busy slipping out on this task before her brother could catch up with her. Being in charge is <em>boring</em>.</p><p>“I see a lot of bands,” she tells them. She thinks of her musically-inclined siblings, about playing the guitar and the lute and even trying her hand at a didgeridoo… which did not go well.  “Been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.” Music has always been a passion of hers, beyond the world of the dead and those that lived in it. While Shades were usually depressed when they first got to her realm, she wasn’t black-hearted. Shades could continue their passions, could rock out and make art, and fall in love. </p><p>“That’s why we do this,” <em> Rush </em>speaks up, beaming at her. He’s adorable, like an excitable puppy, and his bandmates look at him like they think that too. “I’m Luke, by the way.”</p><p>They introduce themselves one at a time. Luke, Reggie, Alex… the names she saw on the scroll. And the last boy. “Bobby.”</p><p>“Nice meeting you guys.” For now.</p><p>Luke sticks his finger in his mouth and then shoves it into Bobby’s ear, making the other boy smack him and scowl.</p><p>“I’m Rose.”</p><p>“Oh,” the bassist, Reggie, pulls something out of his back pocket, “uh… here’s our demo,” he hands her a CD, “and a t-shirt. Size: beautiful.”</p><p>“Thank. I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one.” She shakes her head. These boys are flirting with death in more ways than one, but she’s enamored with the life that washes over her every time one of them speaks. Maybe this is why her brother loves the mortal realm so much. All of that <em>life</em>.</p><p>“Oh, good call,” the drummer says. <em> Alex</em>. “Whenever they get wet, they just kinda… fall apart in your hands.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and smiles at her, rocks of his heels. It’s soft and not flirty and Rose feels something warm in her chest, a kinship with his nervous boy. The softer side of her, the side that loves flowers and fruits and spring. It calls out to him from somewhere.</p><p>“Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?” Bobby asks, looking a little annoyed. </p><p>“Yeah.” Luke pushes him to the side and leans his weight on the table to get just a little closer to Rose. “He had a hamburger for lunch.” She watches as Reggie wacks Bobby’s shoulder and the three boys head towards the back, presumably to get their stuff.</p><p>If she was mortal, she’d be flattered by the flirting. Since she’s not, it’s more amusing than anything. She’s here for a job she stole from her brother. Bobby tries to talk to her a little more, but she can’t stay. She has work to do.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” she says after a few minutes. “I’ve got to go do inventory.” She touches his hand, gently. Feels like life flutter inside him at the touch, reaching towards her. “It was nice meeting you.” She turns her back to him and clutches the shirt in her hand. “And I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“What?” Bobby asks but Rose closes her eyes and walks away, eventually wrapping herself in enough shadows from the edges of the club to disappear.</p><hr/><p>She follows the trail of the three boys, glowing golden threads of their lifelines to an alleyway a few blocks from the club. Rose can see the ends now, cut and frayed and damaged. She stays in the shadows as the boys chow down on hot dogs in the most disgustingly teenage boyish way possible. It’s endearing.</p><p>“That’s a new flavor,” Alex says, scowling, and Rose sees his lifeline tightens. She can’t see the end of the string, but she’d imagine the Fates are gathering their scissors to cut his cord.</p><p>It all happens as if in slow motion. The boys waver, groaning and pressing their hands into their stomachs. She watches, keeping to the shadows, watching as their strings tighten to almost a breaking point and then, one by one, they snap. Drop as if cut. Luke. Reggie. Alex. The ambulance comes and picks them up. Rose slips inside, invisible, looks between the three bodies, covered in fluttering white sheets, and the strings that are slowly starting to unravel and fray and disappear.</p><p>“Oh, no, you don’t.” She reaches out and grabs the threads. There’s something about these boys that resonate with her, tug at the little pieces of immortality in the place where her soul would be if she had one. She braids them together, always intertwined, wraps the three strings around her wrist like bracelets, strong and golden and glowing. Rose presses her hand against the wall and opens a shadow portal, takes the stairs that form inside down until she gets home.</p><p>Her brother’s waiting for her in the obsidian throne room, arms crossed over his shoulders. He looks from her wrist and back to her face.</p><p>“You didn’t…” He shakes his head, hair pulled back by a crown of braids, Queen Anne's lace standing out against the dark brown strands. “You can’t just <em>take </em>souls. See, this is why I’m the one who gathers them and you’re the one who judges them when they come down here.”</p><p>“These ones are different.” Rose strokes one of the strands, can hear the faint sound of a bass echo in her mind. “I don’t know. I feel a pull.” She smiles at her brother, but it’s watery. “Haven’t felt like this since we found Heimdal’s replacement among Asphodel.” Asphodel, the city of the dead, where they lived out their deaths as the Lifers do above until they’re ready to drink the Lethe and return to life.</p><p>Rose is good at finding replacements. She’s done so for Heimdal and Raven and Freyja and others. Plucked them from Asphodel and Hel and Xibalba and Duat and the other sections of her realm. They’re just like humans, wanting other things in life, but they can’t just abandon what they stand for. </p><p>“You’re thinking about retiring?” He blinks owlishly at her. “Why now?”</p><p>Rose shrugs. “Maybe I want to experience a mortal life? I don’t know. But these boys are important.” She heads into one of the hallways off of the throne room. She needs to find somewhere to put the boys until the time is right. There’s an empty chamber just off what would have been a dining room if anyone here ever ate anything. She calls a tiny bit of shadow to her and weaves them into a safe box that can only be opened when someone plays their music again or when she opens it. </p><p>“So you’re just gonna leave them there?”</p><p>“I mean, do you want to carry them around with you for the next decade or century or something?”</p><p>She watches as her brother shakes his head and storms out, the tattoo of butterfly wings on his back shifting with every twitch of his muscle. The blue lines stand out against the black of his shendyt. Rose watches as he leaves the obsidian palace, shifts until his tattoo peels away from his back and unfurl into large blue gossamer wings, and he flies off in the direction of his Egyptian-style temple. She turns back to the shadow box and touches it, hearing the sound of their last notes curling through the air usually silent and dead. </p><hr/><p>When Rose emerges from the shadow staircase, she’s just in time to watch the ambulance turn the corner towards the hospital. Carrying three bodies, DOA, of teenagers that might never lift their voices in song again.</p><p>There’s a scream a little ways down from where she stands, still wrapped in a cloak of shadows, and she sees Bobby on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, hanging off his chin like diamonds before they drop and soak into his jeans. She walks over to him, sheds her shadow cloak, and kneels beside him. He flinches when she reaches out to touch his shoulder, just a gentle fleeting thing. He blinks up at her with wide brown eyes, red-rimmed and full of pain. Rose wants to tell him so bad, take him by the hand and lead him to the shadow box where she’s keeping his friends safe. But if she takes him, he’ll never be able to return.</p><p>“Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asks him as she takes her hand away. He’s shaking, but he nods and kind of leans into her. She stands up and brings him with her, keeping her arm around his shoulder to steady him. As she leads him down the ally, she learns the boys have been renting out a garage from a family up in Los Feliz, near the high school they dropped out of. That’s where Bobby wants to go but he can’t drive yet. Doesn’t have his license. Bobby points with shaky fingers out of the alley and towards a parking lot across from the Orpheum.</p><p>The van he leads her to is a tangerine-colored VW Bus, hastily spray-painted in white splotches with a shitty version of the Sunset Curve logo. Bobby freezes when they get there, the key loose in his hand. He tells her that each member had a key, although Alex was the only one who could actually drive. Rose smiles sadly at the thought of the blonde drummer with sarcasm and wit and so much to live for, sitting in a shadow box with the rest of his band members, dormant until something wakes them.</p><p>“Come on,” Rose reaches out to squeeze Bobby’s arm, breaking him from his trance. “You wanted to go to your studio?”</p><p>He nods and hands her the key. There’s a tiny guitar attached to it as if the boys used the keychains to know who’s key was who’s. She squeezes his arm again and opens the driver’s side door. Her nose wrinkles at the smell of teenage boy— smells like teen spirit, her brain supplies the most inappropriate thought— and the fast-food wrappers and a notebook haphazardly tossed into the front seat. Bobby hesitates for a moment before sliding inside.</p><p>Music blasts from the speakers as soon as the engine turns over and Bobby’s hand reaches out like a snake to turn it off. It’s the same sound she heard before when the boys were doing their soundcheck, probably like the CD she has tucked into her bag with the gifted shirt. Bobby slumps down in his seat and Rose feels so bad for him. She has to go back eventually, face her brother’s disappointment, but she can’t leave this kid here, alone, not now.</p><p>Bobby gives her directions to a house up in the Los Feliz, a ways away from the Orpheum. As they drive, Bobby explains that the man who owns the garage was often away and allowed them to use it for cheap as long as they also took care of his plants and kept the place clean. How he also had a son but was divorced so his son rarely came to visit. Bobby’s met him— nice college kid named Ray, super into photography, a little bit of a square— at least twice in the year he’s been running with <em>them</em>. His voice cracks on their names, like he’s speaking through a throat full of glass, tears sliding down his cheeks again.</p><p>“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rose asks as she pulls up to the driveway. The bus is too fat to fit through all the plants, so she parks on the side of the road. She opens the door and turns to Bobby, puts a hand on his arm. She can feel him shaking under her touch, can almost feel his soul trembling like a wounded animal. “We can go somewhere else. You don’t have to do this now.”</p><p>“No,” Bobby’s voice comes out harsh before it softens as he repeats himself. “No.” He sniffles and wipes his eyes on his arm. “I <em> need </em>to do this. It’s… I have to.” His demeanor makes Rose want to whisk him away from the pain. Have him drink from the Lethe, to let him forget and move on. But that would be taking his life into her own hands and she just rules over the dead but cannot control them.</p><p>Bobby opens the door and hesitates, his eyes trained on the closed door of what Rose assumes leads to their studio. She turns off the car, listening to it rumble like a dragon until it goes silent with a single rattled breath. Rose holds out her hand and he takes it, fingers gripping hers so hard she would wince if her bones weren’t made of stronger stuff.</p><p>Right as he’s reaching out to open the garage door, the porch light comes on. They both freeze. Rose reaches for the shadows for a moment before she realizes she can’t in front of Bobby nor can she leave him alone to face whoever’s about to come out. Bobby kind of whimpers a little in the back of his throat and pushes closer to Rose, sniffling.</p><p>“Hello?” a guy’s voice calls. “Who’s out there?” He comes around the corner and stands at the edge of the stone steps leading up to the house. It’s dark so she can’t see many features, but Bobby seems to uncurl from the cradle of her arm and stand up straight, wipe at his eyes. “Oh, uh, hi?” It comes out a little bit breathy and Rose can feel his eyes on her. The empty space where her heartbeat would be seems to throb once in her chest before it still again.</p><p>He steps down the stairs and triggers the automatic sensor. It washes the three of them in harsh lighting. Rose meets his eyes, like sapphires gemstones, as they look her up and down. His eyes flit to Bobby for a moment but come back to her. She takes him in too. Besides the boys and, briefly, the staff of the Orpheum, she hasn’t interacted with many mortals.</p><p>“Hey.” Bobby gives the stranger a small wave. “Sorry, we were, uh, this is— was— is my band’s studio.” He stumbles over the words and the guy turns to him, eyes concerned. “Sorry if we woke you up.” </p><p>Since there’s no concept of time in her realm, Rose hadn’t realized that it’s extremely early in the morning. Past midnight, she knows that. “We just need to grab a few things and then we’ll be out of your hair.” She comes up with the excuse on the fly. She doesn’t know what lies beyond the door or if Bobby actually wants anything.</p><p>“Oh, are you the band that rents the studio?” he asks as he seems to float down the stairs to stand in front of Rose and Bobby. “My dad told me about you guys. Said you’re really good. I’m Ray.”</p><p>“Uh, thanks.” Bobby fumbles with the edge of his striped shirt. He pulls at the door, opens it just a crack, and freezes again. His shoulders hunch near his ears and Rose reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder but he shrugs her off. She looks behind her to see Ray looking between the two of them before the warmth at her side disappears and the garage door slams shut.</p><p>The two of them stand there, Rose pressing her hand to the closed door and Ray staring at her. She can see him better in the driveway light. Tall, with dark hair tipped with blonde gold, crystalline blue eyes that remind her of the ocean. She’s never been to the ocean, but she knows it, has seen it in her mind. The waters of her kingdom are dark and full of spirits and agony and those lost to time. His grin crooks up into a lopsided smile and her empty chest cavity rattles and throbs again. He’s as handsome as any hero to come to her kingdom, those that pass to Elysium and Valhalla and other places like it.</p><p>“So, you in the band too? I thought it was just boys.” Ray asks as he leans against the door, right under the light. The shadows wrap around him but don’t touch him. Rose has always been in tune with the shadows, with the dark, with anything related to death. They tell her things, just like her brother’s little butterfly spies. And they’re telling her to trust this man. Not with everything, but with enough. He’s important to her story and to the story of those boys she left in the shadow box. She can see his string, long and full and glowing. She doesn’t have a string but she can just reach out and touch his. Rose watches as he shivers with the touch but he keeps smiling at her.</p><p>“No, I’m, uh, just a friend.” She wraps her arms around herself as she tries to extend her senses beyond the door. If Ray wasn’t here, she would slip through the shadows and go to Bobby, but she can’t. Not with him watching her the way he is.</p><p>Something behind closed doors crashes to the ground and they both jump. “Is he okay?” Ray asks, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. There’s another crash, this time sounding like cymbals. “Jesus. What’s going on in there?” He moves to open the door, barge in, but Rose stops him with a hand on his arm. There’s a zap of energy and Rose curses Inanna, Aphrodite, and all the other names she can think of under her breath. He looks down at her hand and then to her face before he gives her what she’s guessing is his signature grin. Her empty chest thumps as if there’s a heart below the skin and she grimaces mentally. There’s another crash and Ray shakes off her hand to push his way inside.</p><p>“Give him some time,” Rose says in the calmest voice she can. “He’s the only one left.”</p><p>Ray turns to her with those big ocean eyes. “What?”</p><p>“His bandmates…” She inhales a shaky breath. “They just died. He wanted to come here.”</p><p>“How did they die? Should we call their parents?” Ray starts freaking out. Leaving the door to pace up and down in front of it instead, running his hands through golden tipped dark hair.</p><p>“I think the police can handle that.” She steps into the line of his pacing and he bumps into her, puts his hands on her shoulder to steady himself. “I’m sorry we bothered you, but he’s going to need people.”</p><p>“Oh, uh, sure. I guess. I never met his other bandmates, so I feel kinda bad.” He gives her a weak smile. “You gonna stay too?”</p><p>“Of course.” She nods and he lets her go, reaching down to grab her hand as he pushes on the door. She can’t leave Bobby alone and there’s something in the empty cavity of her chest pulling her towards this man. He’s important, to her and to the boys in the shadow box. She just doesn’t know how.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This has been in my head for soooo long.</p><p>I hope you guys like the concept and want more. I'd love to hear your thoughts.</p><p>Who do you think Rose's brother is?</p><p>Shendyt- a kilt-like garment worn in ancient Egypt</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Fernando</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fernando looks like Oscar Isaac</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rose returns to the world above. He doesn’t agree with her, but he can’t stop her. She’s older than him, but he’s her younger brother and does the typical younger sibling thing. He complains when she sheds her leather jackets and crop tops for t-shirts and paint-covered tank tops, shucks her thigh-high boots in favor of sneakers and loafers, discards her tight pants for sweats as her stomach expands. Once. Twice. Her body always bounces back, snaps back into place like she’d never grown another godling inside her.</p><p>But when he meets the tiny godling in his sister’s arms, as he watches Ray interact with both of them, he swears to protect her like she’s his. Because she is, in a way. Rose can’t stay forever, has to come back to rule over her kingdom and, as he leans over and kisses Julie Molina on the forehead, he promises her he’s going to take care of her for however long she lives.</p><p>Carlos is an adorable child, but his soul line is silver compared to Julie's soft golden. Rose has told him that she thinks that Carlos won't inherit any of her godly powers, but isn't sure if she's worried about it or not. It's a heavy burden to bear. Julie's shown some small signs of having trace amounts of Rose's powers. Flowers blooming and going back to their natural state when she passes. She points at empty air and holding full conversations with shadows when they're out and about. Ray finds it adorable that she's doing cute kid stuff, but he knows Rose worries that she'll be seen as crazy as she grows older and keeps talking to things that aren't there.</p><p>
  <b>2009</b>
</p><p>“<em>Tío </em> Nado!” Fernando hears the pitter-patter of sneakers against the hardwood floor as Julie runs over. She knocks into him and wraps her arms around his waist. He chuckles and holds the flowers out of his little niece's way. Dahlias and poppies and forget-me-nots and morning glories and chrysanthemum. He can see Rose coming out of the kitchen and she rolls her eyes when she sees the flowers.</p><p>“Really, <em>hermano</em>?” she asks with a musical chuckle as she takes the flowers from him. It’s still weird to hear her use his “mortal” name, but the both of them have had to hide. And he likes Fernando for this face.</p><p>“What?” He shrugs. “I thought you liked death flowers. And aren’t dahlias your favorite of this decade?”</p><p>“Oh, stuff it.” She whacks him with the flowers and he laughs at her.</p><p>“<em>Mami</em>, we don’t hit!” Julie shakes her finger at her mom.</p><p>Fernando picks Julie up and holds her on his hip. She wraps her arm around his neck and he kisses her cheek. “And how’s my favorite godling today?”</p><p>Rose might hate him for calling Julie that, but the child thinks it’s just a cute nickname and he doesn’t use it around Ray. Julie doesn’t know of her heritage, but it’s just another nudge at Rose about the fact that she’s still in charge of a whole kingdom. Has abandoned it to fall in love with a mortal. There’s nothing wrong with taking a mortal as a lover-- he’s done it plenty of times as have others-- but abandoning your kingdom?</p><p>“Good, <em>tio</em>.” Julie plays with a zipper on his jacket, flashing him a gap-tooth smile. One of them is missing and he must have been away longer than he thought. Time runs differently in their realm and his job is important enough for him to stay away. “I made a new friend today and Uncle Trevor let me play his guitar and his daughter is nice but she’s a little shy and Flynn is so much fun. She shared her blue crayon with me because there was a mean boy who said blue is for boys. Which is stupid because they’re colors.”</p><p>“<em>Mija</em>, what did we say about bad words?” Rose shakes her finger at her daughter.</p><p>Julie leans in and whispers, loudly, to Fernando, “Not to say them out loud until I’m older… but boys <em>are </em>stupid. Except you and dad.” She giggles behind her hand, the same kind of musical laugh as her mother. As beautiful as Apollo or Saraswati. “Even Carlos is stupid and he’s a baby. All he does is poop and cry.”</p><p>Fernando chuckles and boops her on the nose. “You know, you were the exact same way.” Julie wrinkles her nose and it’s the most endearing thing he’s seen in millennia. She’s so bright, like the stones that shine down on Rose’s kingdom. If he squints, he can see the tiny ribbon of her soul-- his ability to do this isn’t as strong as Rose unless he’s actively guiding a soul home-- and it’s like gold, glowing and strong and so alive.</p><p>Ray comes in from the kitchen, wearing a flowery apron. Everything in Rose’s life is flowers. “Ray, look who showed up.” Rose gestures with the flowers. Fernando likes Ray, likes his energy and his spirit and the way he’s so supportive of Rose. He sees Rose as his mortal wife but treats her like a goddess she is.</p><p>“It’s nice to see you, Fernando,” Ray says as he claps Fernando on the back. The air smells like Mexican food fragrant and spicy against his tastebuds. Rose puts the flowers in the always-ready vase. Fernando always brings flowers when he visits them, always death flowers. Just to annoy his sister. He doesn’t get to see her often and they’re too old to be pulling each other’s pigtails, so he’ll take what he can get.</p><p>Once Julie’s followed Ray into the kitchen, the sound of a stool being scraped against the wood floor making Rose wince, his sister turns to him. He can hear Carlos babbling and saying random words, probably already in his highchair so he’s not underfoot. The boy likes to toddle everywhere and get into all sorts of trouble. As if he's got Loki whispering in his ear.</p><p>“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” she hisses, digging her nails into his arm. Her eyes flash golden for a moment before they go back to familiar warm brown. Her curls are pulled back, a crown braid holding her bangs back and the rest flowing down her back like a pitch-black river.</p><p>“First off, <em>ow</em>. Put away the goddamn claws.” Fernando pulls her hand from his arm and shakes his own out. He runs his hand through her salt and pepper hair and shakes his head. “Second, you need to come home, Seph—” when she glares at him, he coughs and corrects himself, “Rose.” He keeps his voice down so that Ray can’t hear him. Rose knows that if her husband knew what Fernando was asking, he wouldn’t want Rose to go.</p><p>“I told you, I’m not going back. Not yet.” She crosses her arms over her chest, looking sternly at him. “I can’t just <em> leave</em>.”</p><p>“Well, if you don’t,” Fernando growls, “your sister will try to usurp. Take over. And, now she’s got a servant who’s been collecting ghosts and <em> keeping </em> them.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?”</p><p>“There’s someone out there, a ghost with finished business, who’s been given the power to stop ghosts from crossing into your kingdom. He can take their souls and give them to her, to give her more power.”</p><p>Rose glares at something over her brother’s head. “If she thinks that she can just throw my kingdom into complete chaos,” Rose growls, her eyes shining gold around the irises, “she has another thing coming.”</p><p>“That’s why you need to come back.” Fernando takes her hand in his. “I can watch after Julie and Carlos. I’m sure Ray and Victoria can too.”</p><p>“They need me.” Rose shakes her head. “I can’t leave them now.”</p><p>“Well,” Fernando shrugs, “the longer you’re away, the more powerful she becomes. Especially now with someone to do her bidding and collect souls.”</p><p>“Look, just give me a little more time,” Rose says in an almost pleading tone. Fernando’s known his sister to have fallen in love over the millennia, but Ray’s the first person she’s left her kingdom for. The first one she’s had children with and <em>stayed</em>.</p><p>“I’m doing all I can to keep her at bay and the souls from becoming too restless.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. Fernando sighs. “They need you, Rose. They look to you for protection. The one to keep her and her new servant at bay.”</p><p>“A few more years,” she tells him firmly. “Just a few more years.”</p><p>He holds his hands up to placate her as she starts shaking, wrapping her arms around herself. “I trust you, Rosie.” She gives him a small smile. He claps his hands. “Now, I was promised some of your famous enchiladas. Victoria does not make them as well as you do… no matter what anyone says.”</p><p>Rose laughs and follows him into the kitchen. She presses a kiss to Ray’s cheek, ruffles Julie’s hair until she’s giggling up at her mom with her missing teeth, and goes over to pick up Carlos, who babbles at her and calls her <em>mami</em>.</p><p>Fernando feels his heartache for his sister. Family is everything to her, but duty has to come first.</p><hr/><p>Every year, on the spring and winter solstice, Rose returns to the obsidian palace. She doesn’t stay long and she never goes out to greet the denizens of Asphodel and Xibalba and Mictlan and all the other sectors of her kingdom. Ray has no idea where his wife goes on those days, wouldn’t believe her if she told him. And Fernando is okay with that.</p><p>There’s a sundial in Rose’s garden that follows the cycle of the world above so she knows when to go home. She stays near it, walking the halls of the obsidian palace, almost in a daze. Fernando follows her like a shadow, as he’s done since they were chosen by the previous death gods. Keeps to her side like a dog trailing after its master.</p><p>The only place she makes a point to visit every time is the room with the shadow box. Fernando leans against the wall, his arms crossed, a scowl painted across his face, as he watches her. Rose, every time without fail, strokes the tendrils of shadows that rise to up great her. They twist around her fingers like smoke, but the box stays firmly shut. Fernando poked it once and almost felt like he was getting electrocuted.</p><p>Their swan song plays, every time, as if responding to her touch. It’s a punk song, rough and grunge, but it has a nice backbeat to it and he likes the drums in the background. </p><p>“Will you stay?” Fernando asks her every time, as she takes that first step back up to her mortal family. </p><p>“Ask me next time,” is her response. Every time. She steps onto the stairs and he watches her until she disappears into the shadows. </p><p>He’s left with a kingdom that’s slowly falling apart, a castle with crumbling walls, and a shadow box with three swan song souls.</p><hr/><p>When Julie is fourteen and Carlos is twelve, Fernando again comes calling for his sister. He’s visited over the years, to keep up appearances, but this time he’s here for a reason. They don’t have a lot of time left. The obsidian castle is  Julie hugs him as he walks through the door and he hates himself for what he’s about to do to her. Carlos waves at him, hardly looking up from his video game. Gods bless the kid, but he's so lucky to be normal. No godly powers, no trauma that comes with it. Just a kid who might believe in ghosts a little more than the typical kid.</p><p>Ray’s not home, thank the gods, so Fernando’s able to talk to his sister in private.</p><p>He corners Rose in the kitchen where she’s putting together some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the kids. She looks up at him and steps back, holding out the knife in front of her.</p><p>“You know that can’t kill me,” he tells her, coming closer until it’s pressed against his chest. “And you know why I’m here.”</p><p>She sighs and puts down the knife, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans against the counter. “I know why you’re here,” she grumbles, “and it’s still too soon.”</p><p>“Seph, she has almost enough soul energy to feed an army." He throws his hands up. “If you don’t come back soon…” He shakes his head. “She’ll take over and there will be nothing left.”</p><p>Rose puts her head in her hands. Fernando watches as tears slide down her cheeks. “I don’t want to leave them, Than. I can’t.” Her voice shakes. “This is different.”</p><p>“I know.” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “But you have to think of the bigger picture.”</p><p>“Sometimes I hate you.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><hr/><p>Rose stares at him with tears in her eyes, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if trying to hold herself together; like, if she wasn't holding herself, she'd fall apart into shadows. Fernando’s wearing a new face and goes by a new name, but he's still her brother. Longer hair, younger than his previous face, but same personality. Rose hasn’t changed her appearance as the millennia passed, but Fernando likes the change. It’s fun to be new people, test out different parts of his personality.</p><p>“You okay?” he asks as he gently touches her arm. She shudders and turns into him, sobbing into his shoulder. Her hair is back to its black curls, instead of falling out in tufts; her skin tone back to its healthy immortal glow instead of sallow and pale of the sickness she projected to her family.</p><p>“I know we deal in death every day,” she whispers, her voice shaky, “but this is so much harder than I thought it would be.”</p><p>The scene in front of them is morbid. There are people in black hovering over a gravesite, with a closed casket that he <em>knows </em>is empty. He can see Julie and Carlos clinging to Ray, the three of them bowing their heads as the priest prays over the dead. </p><p>Fernando feels awkward, knowing he isn’t here collecting the soul of the newly departed. He’s here, standing next to his sister, watching her family mourn the loss of a woman who isn’t dead at all. A woman who can’t die.</p><p>“I know it’s hard,” Fernando says as Julie falls to her knees in front of the hole in the ground, touching the headstone with gentle fingers. “But you’re doing what’s right. If we don’t stop your sister, there’s going to be nothing left. No afterlife for <em> anyone</em>.”</p><p>“I can’t stay here.” Rose sobs, clutching at her chest again. “I can’t watch this, knowing they’re crying over an empty grave. Knowing they're crying for someone who can never die.” She turns away as Ray says a few words, talking about how amazing she was and how much life and music she brought into their lives. She sweeps her hand against the shade of the tree and he watches as it twists until there’s a staircase leading down down down.</p><p>“I love you,” Rose whispers, kissing her palm and blowing it towards her family. Julie sits up and shudders, presses a hand to her cheek as if she felt something. The smallest manifestation of her latent powers? Fernando doesn’t know, but he puts his hand against Rose’s back and allows her to lead them home.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Julie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The chapter that inspired it all. I really love the idea that everyone ends up in the same place no matter what your beliefs, but you find yourself in the space of your faith.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Julie falls asleep in her bedroom and wakes up in a desolate wasteland. There’s nothing, but it doesn’t look like a desert. Everything looks painted in different shades of depression: greys and blues and blacks the only colors in sight. The wind feels dry but it’s not humid, just the kind of dry that makes you long for water, throat as dry as sandpaper. She coughs, choking on her own spit as she tries to swallow that little bit of moisture. There’s a thickness that hovers just over the ground, making the air shimmer with it, blurring on the horizon… although it’s hard to tell where the horizon really is because the desolate place goes on and on, the sky and ground bleeding together until there’s nothing but forever stretching out before her.</p><p>There’s something pressing at her back-- she can’t tell if she feels thousands of hands or if it’s the wind-- and she shivers. The hands or wind keep pressing at her until she moves, blows her along like a rag doll. There’s a path that her feet seem to find on their own and the pressure releases, making her stumble. Julie looks around and feels something tug at her gut. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows there should be something filling the empty space of the field. She swallows again, coughs, and keeps walking.</p><p>After what feels like forever, she feels the heaviness of the area around her start to lift. And… there… a building looms over everything. It looks like one of those Greecian temples from the postcard her <em>tia </em>sent her while on a vacation to the country. Columns rise over her head, towering as she gets closer and closer. She can see some bowls of fire flickering inside, casting shadows over the area in front. And for the first time since Julie woke up wherever she is, there’s color. A field of bright red poppies grows beside the building, a stark contrast to the more muted colors. Julie inhales, expecting to be able to smell the flowers, but there’s nothing beyond the harsh heat that shoots up her nose and makes her cough again.</p><p>Julie freezes when she realizes that she’s not alone; there’s a boy-- maybe the age of her ghosts-- sitting on the front step. He’s staring out into the distance, unblinking, fiddling with something in his hands. The stranger has long brown hair that’s got a small plait down the side of his face. He has a delicate sloping nose and high cheekbones as if he’s been chiseled from the same granite as the columns behind them. As she gets closer, the stranger looks up and locks eyes with her, his own widening. He stands up and she squeaks, noticing his attire for the first time and the fact that he’s bare-chested. It’s like one of those old togas, with fabric thrown over one muscular, tan shoulder and across his chest. The fabric is a rich black that looks like gossamer silk and moves like the ocean as he steps towards her. He brings whatever he was fiddling with down to his side and she sees he’s holding a torch upside down, unlit. There’s a symbol on it that she can make out as an O with something in the middle, but it doesn’t look like any letter she’s ever seen.</p><p>“Hello,” she speaks for the first time since waking in the field. Her voice sounds hoarse and it feels like there are sand grains lining her throat.</p><p>The stranger says nothing, only smiles as he walks closer. In the firelight, she can see silver glinting in his earlobes and necklaces around his neck that look like chains, linked together by a key charm. His smile curls and his eyes flash amber before becoming a tame brown. Julie stays where she is, afraid to get closer, but he’s doing all the work for her.</p><p>“I was wondering when you’d show up,” he says, voice smooth like water. It washes over her, calms her racing heart, and she takes another breath. He stops right in front of her and holds out his hand. When she does nothing, he chuckles and shakes it a little until she tentatively reaches out her own. Instead of shaking it, as she would expect him to do, he clasps her forearm in a firm hold. Julie does the same, fingers wrapping around the muscle there. She looks down and notices the tattoos. All different kinds of butterflies explode from a cracked sword wrapping around his wrist; they look like they’re flying up his naked pectoral, a monarch etched into the base of his neck. He’s beautiful, in an ethereal sort of way.</p><p>After a minute, she finally comprehends his words and pulls back. “You’ve… you’ve been waiting for me?”</p><p>He shrugs and makes a motion to shove his hand into his pocket before he chuckles and leaves them at his side. “It might not make much sense, but I hope it will soon.” He brushes his long hair over his shoulder. “Do you know where you are? How you got here?”</p><p>She shakes her head. “I fell asleep in my bed and woke up in the middle of nowhere.”</p><p>“Ah, yeah, that’s, uh… she was expecting that. The first time, at least.” He rubs against a spot on his arm, pressing his thumb against a smaller moth-like butterfly near his elbow. “We should get going.” </p><p>He takes a step towards her. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Julie glares at him and the stranger holds his hands up. “I don’t know where the hell I am. I don’t know you. I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing here.” The corners of her eyes prickle and a tear slides down her cheek. Her whole body aches, like she’s been walking forever, and her mouth feels dry as sandpaper.</p><p>This dream that doesn’t feel like a dream sucks.</p><p>“Oh, uh, sorry.” The stranger scratches the back of his neck, has the gall to look bashful. “Um, I have so many names it’s hard to pick one. Anubis. Xolotl. But my sister calls me Thanatos,” he shrugs, “or Than, for short. Which is a stupid nickname, but whatever. It’s not like I want her to call me Tos because that sounds too much like toes and who wants to be called--”</p><p>“Okay,” Julie holds up a hand, “I get it.” He shuts up and she sighs. “So, why am I here?”</p><p>“Oh, right.” Thanatos beams at her. “Because you must have done something to fully unlock your powers. You didn’t think you could summon ghosts and see them for no reason, did you?”</p><p>“I… what?” She blinks at him. “I put a CD in and they came to me. And I just hugged them and… Wait, how did you know about that?!?”</p><p>“Look, I can’t tell you without my sister, so you’re just gonna have to come with me.” He gestures towards the temple. “She’s inside waiting for you.” He holds out his hand when Jule hesitates. “Trust me, okay?” Julie looks at him, watches his brown eyes flash golden again, sees some of the tattoos on his arm flutter like they’re actual butterflies when he moves. She notices that, when he smiles, he has crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. She doesn’t know what makes her do it, but she places her hand in his. His skin feels as cold as ice, like she just shoved her hand into a pile of snow with no glove on, but he’s pulling her into the building before she can say anything else.</p>
<hr/><p>Julie realizes, once they step into the temple, that she’s barefoot. She hadn’t noticed before. She looks down and finds herself in her Bobcat sweatpants and one of her dad’s old tie-dye shirts, the one with the wide collar that slips down one shoulder. She wore the one her mom made during the disastrous school dance. She doesn’t have socks on either and the marble feels cold against her toes. She looks back up to see Thanatos a few feet ahead. His tan skin looks like bronze in the firelight, the muscles of his back rippling. And then, as the basins of fire become bigger and less spaced out, she can see that his back is covered in an intricate tattoo of wings spread out. She can’t tell what kind they are, but they look more insect than bird.</p><p>“You never answered my question,” she speaks up. The air inside the temple feels heavy, filled with the scent of burning oil, the flames filling the air with a warmth that’s different from the dry heat outside. “Where are we?”</p><p>“Oh,” Thanatos spins around, hunches his shoulders a little bit, looking sheepish. “Sorry. We’re in one of the many temples here. This one’s Greek, obviously. There’s religious spaces all over the place for different cultures to gather. Aztec, Maya, Viking. All eventually come here.”</p><p>“Where is here?” Julie asks again, feeling like she’s on repeat.</p><p>“It has different names. Mictlan, the Duat, Hel, Hades.”</p><p>“The Underworld? What the fuck?” Julie’s not one to swear, but this guy is telling her that she somehow ended up in the freaking Underworld, talking to a <em> god</em>, while in a dream. This is crazy. “Where is everyone? Shouldn’t this place be full of dead people?”</p><p>“That’s the problem.” Thanatos turns his back to her, keeps leading her further into the temple. “There’s been a coup. One of the other gods here is stealing souls. We don’t know who’s helping them, but it’s someone who’s either a Lifer or a Wanderer.”</p><p>“A what?”</p><p>“A ghost. There are so many different names for ghosts that we’ve just taken to calling them Wanderers. Lifers are--”</p><p>“People that are alive.” Julie nods. She’s still trying to wrap her head around all this information, but the questions die in her throat when Thanatos leads her past a giant statue. It’s a woman, taller than any statue Julie’s ever seen. She squints, but the top half is too tall to even be bathed in the lamplight. She can see that the woman wears a long dress, that she’s barefoot, and there’s something round in her palm, held out like an offering. “Who’s this?”</p><p>Thanatos looks up for a moment before he keeps walking. “One of the many versions of my sister. Again, this one’s Greek.” He chuckles. “She’s not always that pretty,” he shrugs, “and neither am I. Sometimes, I have the head of a jackal. She always complains my breath stinks.” He pushes open a door Julie didn’t notice before and he holds it open as she slides past him. “Just a little further.”</p><p>Julie gasps. The field of poppies stretches out across the side of the temple in a contained area that looks like it goes on forever. “Wow,” she breathes.</p><p>“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Thanatos asks. “They popped up once mortals began to associate me with poppies. At least the Greek ones. Like I said, many temples and cultures.” He touches Julie’s arm as gentle as a butterfly’s and she looks up to where he’s pointing with his other hand. In the middle of the field is a barren circle with a single tree. And, sitting under that tree, is yet another figure. While Julie stops, Thanatos keeps going until he’s standing over the other figure.</p><p>There’s no light in the Underworld but there’s some kind of something shining down on them. It’s cool, like moonlight, but she can’t see a source. When she turns her head to the sky, there doesn’t seem to be a roof to wherever they are. She knows, logically, that they’re probably somewhere within the bowels of the Earth, but it hurts to try to understand. Julie shakes her head and tries to focus on using the light to see who Thanatos talks to.</p><p>From who he’s been talking about, this must be his sister. She has long hair that falls down her back in kinky curls, pulled back by a silver clip. “She’s here, Sephy… and a bit shook up.” The woman blinks up at him and stands up. She’s wearing a beautiful black dress with a long open skirt that swishes when she walks, leggings tight against her long legs, a sheer top with lace over the bust area. The woman is taller than Thanatos, even without shoes.</p><p>Julie finally gets a look at her face in the not-moonlight and gasps. That face is so familiar, something she sees every time she looks at physical and digital photo albums.</p><p>She wakes up screaming.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, how we doing? </p><p>Julie being related to Alex's crush. ROSE? </p><p>The weirdest idea for me is that, in some cultures, there would be two (or more) deities and they could be married. So Persephone and Thanatos, in different cultures across the world, have been portrayed as married.</p><p>Let me know your thoughts and Happy Valentine's Day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Willie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Willie hates the <em> Hollywood Ghost Club </em>. Just being here makes him itch, like there’s bugs crawling all over his skin. It’s been three days since the Orpheum and Julie saving the boys, but he’s been too scared to speak to Alex. He’s avoided his favorite haunts just in case the blonde decides to show up or come looking for him. Willie’s smart enough to know that he has to stay away, no matter how much his heart aches because of it. Caleb seems to be watching his every move, has his little spies on him when he, himself, can’t be around. He hates it.</p><p>It's not like he can't dodge Caleb's spies, because he can, but he has to keep his cover. If Caleb knew someone more powerful than he was walking around the club, he's sure the ghost would not be happy and the souls under his thumb would suffer for it.</p><p>When Willie found out Caleb stamped the boys, stamped <em>Alex</em>, he almost lost it. He's here on a mission, but the ghost was going to destroy Alex and his friends. Once the jolts rip a soul apart, he'll never be able to bring them to their designated corner of the Underworld. Alex, Luke, and Reggie would have been lost to the River Styx if he Julie hadn't saved them. Those stamps weren't Caleb's but belonged to someone much stronger, with much more power than a measly 1920s ghost.</p><p>He wanders around backstage, dodging performers and those who paid their way to be here after death. Not with coins under their tongues or through human sacrifice, but paying Caleb’s toll just to be here. The gathering of the dead here raised his sister’s suspicions and his own, so now he’s here to find out why.</p><p>Dante, one of Caleb’s closest servants, gives him a look as he passes. Willie’s never liked Dante. Caleb sometimes joked that the two of them were fighting for the top spot, but he could care less about the other ghost.</p><p>“Where are you going?” the smarmy boy asks. “Caleb’s in a meeting.”</p><p>“With who?”</p><p>Caleb doesn’t usually let anyone into his inner sanctum. Willie’s been trying to get in for at least two decades and hasn’t gotten further than the stairs to the second floor. And now Dante’s standing there, guarding the stairs in the tux he died in, the total opposite of Willie in his skater outfit and ratty shoes and out-there sock choices. He <em> could </em> change his looks, but this form looks best with the skater aesthetic. It's comfortable.... and he knows for a fact that Alex finds it attractive.</p><p>“It doesn’t concern you.”</p><p>Sometimes, Willie wishes his sister didn’t keep him on such a tight leash when he went out. He glares at Dante but steps back, putting his hands up like he’s giving up. But he’s not and the ghost is stupid if he thinks anything is off-limits to him. What’s that meme that the Lifers are always saying? </p><p>
  <em> What’s a man to a god? What’s a god to a nonbeliever?</em>
</p><p><em>Well, </em> Willie thinks, <em> what’s a ghost to the god of death? </em> Nothing. Powerless.</p><p>He heads back towards a deserted part of the club. The coatroom, used by Lifers to store furs and coats and shawls, will be empty until the sun sets and a new performance begins. Willie pushes past the fabric until he finds a shadowy corner. The band on his arm burns, warning him that what he’s about to do is stupid and his sister might just try to kill him for it, but if it brings him closer to figuring out what the hell is going on to bring so many spirits here… well, by the gods he’s going to do it.</p><p>Using the shadows, Willie closes his eyes and allows himself to <em>become </em>the shadows. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, watching as a tiny blue butterfly flutters into his hand. It glows dimly and he smiles. It flutters off his hand and heads out the door. Willie closes his eyes and listens.</p><p>“<em>It’s still not enough, Caleb.</em>” That’s a woman’s voice. She sounds angry. Wille’s brow furrows as he tries to direct his little spy to go inside the room, but somethings blocking it. Something powerful enough to deny him access. Another god? “<em>I need more. You promised me an army.</em>”</p><p>An army? Of souls?</p><p>“<em>It’s not that easy</em>,” Caleb responds and Willie notices that he sounds a bit shaky. Fearful. “<em>I can’t have Titanic nights every time you want more Lifers. No one would come back.</em>”</p><p>“<em>So think of something else,</em>” the woman hisses. Willie curses under his breath. If he could just see who it was. Caleb’s working with someone to collect souls. Souls are disappearing from his sister’s domain. Somehow, the stranger in the room is connected to both things. But who is it?</p><p>“<em>You have to give me more time,</em>” Caleb actually pleads with the woman. Willie’s never heard him sound like that before. Scared. "<em>J</em><em>ust a little more time.” </em></p><p>“<em>You have one week to reach your quota,</em>” the woman says. “<em>If not, I’ll just have to bring them here myself. </em>”</p><p>Willie curls his hand into a fist and the butterfly comes back to him in the back of the coat closet, disappears in a small puff of blue smoke. He might not know who the woman talking was, but he knows Caleb’s been working for her and collecting souls for an army. Lifers coming here have no idea what they’re getting into.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to MadameCristal for being a sounding board and looking over these first few chapters. I couldn't have done it without you!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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